"Ah, what a joyous occasion," Shiranui deadpanned as she and the rest of the modest carrier detachment centered around Kaga received the news that Akagi had miraculously survived her crash on the beach. "The Creator will need to wait a while longer to claim that particular soul."
"Auntie alive. Mama happy?" Eldridge wondered innocently as the destroyer team kept vigilant watch for submarines and other nasty underwater surprises that might derail the reunification of Thorson's splinter fleet. Tennessee had been the one to send the message to them, a courtesy offered by the Southern Belle on account of the fact that Massachusetts, Jean Bart, and the rest of the Black Templar fleet were closing into knife fighting range with Deutschland and her Siren drones. Kaga did not like the headstrong battleship, but she knew Tennessee wore her heart on her sleeve and was honest to a fault. If she said that Akagi lived, then Akagi still lived. Buoyed by the swelling of nascent hope in her breast, Kaga entertained the pint-sized, cat-like Union destroyer with an answer as she maneuvered her heavily laden dive bombers to strike at the Siren fleet.
"Mama is worried because your auntie is still in big trouble. But I'm a lot better than I was a moment ago. Be sure to call her auntie as much as you can once she returns," Kaga spoke honestly, imagining how Akagi might react to being referred to as 'aunt'. Z23 could be heard humming her sympathies over the radio, though it was quickly drowned out by a sudden, crackling interference.
"Hey Eldridge, what's going on?!" Javelin demanded, flinching subconsciously as lightning arced from the Union destroyer's rigging and superstructure. She clutched at her forehead in an attempt to stop the ringing in her ears. "Wait, don't tell me-!"
"Mama… bye bye," the child-like kansen bade farewell before a blinding flash enveloped her ship and her radio signal was lost. The Eldridge carried on its prior course without crew or kansen, a ghost ship.
"What I would not give for a cup of Souryuu's sakura petal tea right now," Kaga muttered to herself, cradling her head in a hand as she considered the futility of trying to wrangle any of the Union forces she was nominally allied to. The stinging pain of one of her Aichi D3A's being knocked from the sky brought her back to the present as vengeful anger flared at the tips of her tails and on her lips. "Oh would you let me brood for one damn second, you Siren trash!"
"No, you're absolutely right," Shiranui said to the nearest manjuu, who'd let out an uncertain call in response to the snowy kitsune's fury. "It would be best if Akagi lives. Otherwise Kaga will start acting like both of them wrapped up in one."
"Algérie, I'm not going insane am I?" Foch asked her comrade as they bombarded another Siren landing craft with their rigging, the mortar-sized explosions eventually scuttling the ship. One of the cruiser's throwing knives found center mass of a drone that had crawled out of the flaming wreckage at the shoreline and advanced towards them with weapon drawn. "There was a little blonde girl there for a split second and then they were both gone, right?"
"Foch, when you asked me to cover you I figured that you meant cover you instead of looking over your shoulder and letting the enemy have free reign taking potshots at our backs. I don't think chainmail is going to stop whatever weapons these heathens are using," Algérie replied lightheartedly. "All I saw was a blinding, blue flash."
"Merde, maybe I really am losing it after being cooped up here for so long. Jean, belay my prior. The Sakura kansen just vanished, whereabouts unknown!" Foch reported to the fleet at large. The reply from their Knight Captain was immediate, punctuated by the thundering of guns and the sizzling of shields under sustained laser fire.
"Then return to your hulls immediately, perform damage assessment, and join the offensive if at all possible. We are past the point of no return. All units, prepare for a second depth charge volley on my mark. I want torpedoes in the water yesterday!" she commanded, taking a knee on deck as heavy shells from Brünhilde struck home. Accuracy was a non-issue at that point, with victory hinging only on their power reserves and the will to triumph. Jean returned fire with a roar as Malin voiced the concern of the Templar destroyer fleets while pressing her forward-facing batteries to their utmost rate of fire. The satisfying chill of salt spray on her hull as it sliced through the water was some comfort, however. It was hard to tell for sure, but she believed she had two drone kills to her name already.
"Jean, we can't maneuver properly in these quarters. The second we sweep wide to fire torpedoes we're going to get shredded by the drone ships or those surviving heads on the battlecruiser."
"If you're wounded, fall back to the rear guard and thread your torpedoes through the battleship gaps one at a time. I know you and I trained for this, Malin. Marseillaise and Galissonnière, maneuver your squads across our line. Dunkerque and I will protect you with our shields. At this distance we have exactly one shot at this. If we don't score a significant number of kills we will take casualties when the fleets pass one another," Jean laid out plainly as her trebuchets slung another volley of depth charges in a wide arc towards the dead center of Deutschland's formation, an attempt to flush out the wolf pack that was still scoring the occasional, frustrating hit on her shields. "Can you accomplish it?"
"What do you think, Marseillaise? Shall we show the Knight Captain we haven't been slacking in the sun all day while she was missing?" Galissonière wondered intently, bloodlust barely concealed. The fighting angel had no objections, business as always.
"You know the maneuver. Take the lead then, Gali. My squad will follow. All ships load 23DTs. Jean, allow us to present the Pas de Torpille."
"Oh, I never thought I'd see the day they attempt this in true combat. Beautiful. Manifique!" Dunkerque brought a finger to the corner of her eye as the Templar escorts suddenly began belching black smoke, their engines set past full. They abruptly slowed to close distance with the battleship shield wall and then turned towards one another, sprinting in an X-like formation just in front of the capital ships. Galissonière took her squad from left to right, the ships running practically nose to tail as they released a wall of torpedoes towards the right side of the enemy formation. Marseillaise and her contingent passed just behind them, releasing their salvo towards the enemy's left flank as soon as the water was clear. Jean nodded approvingly as she watched it all unfold in front of her, her engines powering her towards an inexorable clash with the Ironblood kansen on the other side of the battlefield. With a snarl she raised a hand to focus her shields at just the right coordinates, blocking another lashing strike from the enemy's 'dragons'.
"Maximum saturation with minimal broadside exposure, I approve," she stated before radioing their carrier. Kaga had already launched one wing of dive bombers against the enemy and scored a handful of hits, but nothing to break open the battle. The majority of the aircraft had been shot down to boot, forming trails of thick smoke and flame before splashing into the sea and disappearing. "Kaga, we have a wave of torpedoes en route. Can you time your next strike with them? I'm sending the trajectories now. If they shield themselves against waterborne attacks too heavily it may open up a window in their AA coverage. Kaga? Come in, Kaga!"
Aboard the Kaga's flattop, Eldridge tugged gently at the sleeve of Kaga's kimono. "Mama, call."
"Mama is busy trying to make sure that Auntie doesn't die!" the kitsune snapped back, more harshly than she'd intended. She opened her eyes, temporarily breaking the meditative prayer she'd been murmuring over Akagi's wounded form since Eldridge had somehow beamed the two of them to safety. She shook her head and held out a hand to the young destroyer, who accepted with both of her own. "All this fuss over timing an attack run? These Templar are too high strung. We can ignore them for now, Eldridge. They will get their air support in the manner I will provide, and they will have to deal with the rest. I'm… very, very proud of you. So dry that tear and head back to your hull now where it's safe, ok?"
The blonde girl obeyed silently, wiping her face with one of her oversized sleeves while her blue, cable-like tails began to glow brighter. As the energy spread along her wrists and ankles Eldridge hugged Kaga's arm tightly, as if to either say thank you or 'I forgive you'. A moment later the sensation was gone and a bright flash signified her return to her own ship. Kaga could only resolve to reward the Union girl properly at a later time and circumstance as she sent all of her remaining dive bombers on their final run and promptly forgot about them. Her tails fanned out behind her, glowing brightly as she did her best to channel whatever energy she could into Akagi's badly bruised and broken form. "The last time we did something like this our fiery cyclone reached to the heavens as we combined our powers. How far we've fallen, to a place where survival is the only objective."
Akagi's eyelids fluttered, her eyes unfocused and wandering. "F-fool."
Kaga unilaterally decided that her sister was referring to herself as she returned to her prayers. "May the gods suffer this fool to live then."
"Shikikan, Shikikan! Speak to Akashi, nyaa! Now is not the time to be dying! In fact, it is never the time to be dying! There shall not be dying please!"
Commander Thorson coughed violently as he sat up in an unfamiliar cot, assisted by South Dakota and Arizona. Both of their faces were drawn with worry, while Minneapolis held her head as high as she could to get a better look from her own bed as she recovered from the battle with Jean Bart. Indianapolis was still sleeping soundly. A painful throbbing in his chest had him clutching at his heart. "What… happened?"
"You collapsed in the middle of overseeing today's fleet exercises, such as they are with the Royals and the Toulon force missing. Bismarck and Soryuu carried on while we brought you here, but I doubt the rest of the session was productive," South Dakota explained in a level tone. "My service record as your shield continues to be rather poor, it would seem. Arizona stabilized you."
"Do you remember anything, anything at all?" the green-eyed angel asked him, her raven colored hair falling over his sheets as she took his hand in both of her own. He gave her as strong a squeeze as he was able in an attempt to assuage her concern for him. "You went down grasping and tearing at your uniform, right where the shard is embedded. I tried using Eagle's Tears, but all that did was render you comatose."
"Sexy pin-up lady is too modest, nyaa. Comatose yes, but also alive. Yes!" Akashi pointed out, returning to his bedside with fresh water and some rations. As always, the minty kitty's antics brought a smile to Thorson's face, and he rubbed her between the ears as thanks.
"I appreciate you taking care of me. I'm sorry, Ari, but I barely recall anything. We were overseeing hand to hand training, there was a hot flash, then nothing. I suppose it's more accurate to say that then I woke up here?" he corrected himself, looking down at his partially unbuttoned uniform. The wisdom shard embedded in his chest seemed dimmer than usual and was pulsing erratically. He closed his eyes and took a deep, slow breath while focusing on his heart rate. Getting it to steady out completely was a fool's errand, but after repeating the exercise a few times the glow of the shard steadied in an outward indication of his gradual return to normalcy. "That's better than nothing. What time is it now?"
"It's approaching noon, Commander," South Dakota replied as he swung his legs off the bed and tested them on the floor of the infirmary. Feeling confident, the man pushed himself upright. He steadied himself momentarily against her solid frame before finding he could maintain his own footing.
"Thank you Akashi. I'll be sure to stop by if I feel any negative aftereffects of whatever just happened. I suppose this was always a possibility after the mirror sea, one I've been happy to ignore up until now. I just need to live with it for the time being. More importantly, has there been any word from the Toulon strike force?" he asked, clenching his jaw as Arizona and South Dakota looked at one another seriously.
"Nothing to report, sir," Arizona confirmed, eliciting a curse under his breath.
"Damnit. We have to assume they weren't allowed to waltz in and rendezvous with the Templar fleet then. Anything from Admiral Hewitt?"
"Nothing on that front either," Arizona continued, escorting him from the room with a final wave towards Minneapolis. Emerging to dreary November skies, they looked out over the Allied forces engaging in the true battle of Casablanca, fighting sub-standard port infrastructure and weather conditions to unload the arms, armor, ammunition, food, medicine, and other supplies that would be necessary for a sustained campaign against the Desert Fox. "As you can see, defeating Jean was just the beginning. Her last stand caused significant damage to the dockyards as well."
"Yes, I can see that," Thorson agreed, sighing as he removed his cap and tried to tame his increasingly unruly hair. "I need a razor. But before that I'll need to speak to Brooklyn."
"I'll send for her immediately. The captain's quarters?" South Dakota sought to confirm. He nodded.
"Yes, thank you. I won't lie to you girls, I miss the Pacific. The weather was better and the operational freedom was to die for," he reminisced, leaving out fond memories of a particularly soft pair of twin shrine maidens. South Dakota grunted without amusement.
"And die for it you almost did. Brooklyn is on her way, sir. Shall we?" the native battleship offered, activating her rigging. Thorson nodded before throwing Arizona a casual salute.
"With luck we'll be on our way by sunset, just like old times. Tell the fleet to make ready and standby to depart. Can't let Tennessee and Cleveland have all the fun, can we?"
"By your orders, Andrew. I'm glad you're well," she said quietly. He got the sense she wished to say far more. He cupped her cheek with a brief, gentle touch of the hand.
"And I'm glad you were there. By the time this war is over I wonder how many Union battleships I'll owe my life to," he joked with a smile. He was relieved to see her return it.
"I don't mind sharing that sort of company. We will be ready when you send the word," Arizona assured him before placing two fingers to her temple. "Yuki dear, tell your friends to head ashore with Shiratsuyu and get all the good food you can find that we're allowed to take with us. I don't think we'll get another chance to have dinner in Casablanca for a while!"
"Can't forget to take care of the pets," South Dakota deadpanned as she leapt off the Akashi with Thorson in tow. He raised his voice to be heard over the apparent wind.
"When your pets secure you an airfield and several destroyed artillery pieces, you make sure they keep eating well!"
"Indeed, Commander. Have you ever been to Iris before?" she asked sincerely. It was the first time he could recall South Dakota ever initiating true small talk, unrelated to military affairs or his safety in any way.
"Can't say that I have. And you?"
"I've never had the pleasure, sir. I wonder how their food compares to their warriors," she replied, steering the conversation right back to the matter at hand. Thorson nodded, hoping Tennessee and the others hadn't run into too much trouble despite their best estimates of Ironblood priorities.
"If it's even half as good as Jean claims the Templars are, we'll be sure to stock the larders when we land."
"Sloppy. I suppose needing to block the additional mass will wear down their shields further, but she will be feeling this one in the morning," Jean muttered to herself, watching as Kaga's final attack wing made its run against the combined Ironblood and Siren fleet. If the kitsune had intended to engage in any sort of evasive maneuvers to counter the incoming anti-aircraft fire, it was not apparent in the final product. Had the aircraft been manned the maneuver would have been a grim sight to behold, with several burning and smoking planes plummeting to the earth in kamikaze attacks. She could feel the tension from her knights, like arcs of lightning across the sea. The 'artillery' had made its play and it was now time for them to charge the lines. "All stations, I think it's safe to say that's going to be the last of our air support. Prioritize the enemy vessels that are recovering their barriers and that final head on the unknown battlecruiser. Do not waste unnecessary energy on these kansen. Pick off the surviving escorts as we close to melee range. They cannot sink us all, and I am willing to bet my life that we can defeat them hand to hand. Now press the attack! Chargez!"
"Knight Captain, your orders for boarding action?" Dunkerque requested, hand on the hilt of her heavy rapier as she continued to unload full frontal battery fire on the enemy. One by one the Siren vessels were falling under withering combined arms fire, with barrages of smaller caliber shells paving the way for killing blows from her main batteries. As Jean was about to reply a pair of shells from Massachusetts' forward batteries slammed into an enemy battleship directly amidships. The reaction was immediate, the enemy reactor detonating in blinding proof that even the advanced technology of the Sirens was not immune to heavy steel and black powder. Deutschland had drawn her formation tighter and tighter as the battle had progressed, seeking to blunt the Vichya advance with overlapping barriers. It proved a fatal mistake.
"All engines to full! Fall upon them before they can recover! Shift fire to the survivors on the edge of the blast radius and tear us a hole in their formation. Light cavalry, split them in two and encircle, focus on depth charges! Dunkerque, take Algérie and bring that heavy cruiser to heel. I suspect she is the flagship. Pagan of the Union, will you join me against the dragon's master?"
Massachusetts wanted to scream that Jean didn't have to ask, her cubes threatening to overwhelm her better judgment. The first joint operation between the Black Templar and Union was hardly the time or place to be seen as clinging to the Templar's leader, however. "I'm with you. Allow me to demonstrate how Union battleships engage in close combat."
Across the water, Deutschland was trying to drive the ringing of hell from her ears. She hadn't expected Oceania Mk II to scream like a kansen as she died, nor had she expected to lose close to a third of her remaining combat strength in the immediate aftermath. The enemy was close enough that she could see the individual AA mounts on their decks and they showed no sign of slowing, no doubt driven by the first tastes of total victory. The enemy flagship was particularly troublesome, still flinging out depth charges by the dozens in an attempt to land a kill on her submarines. "Fucking Empress. Just how much did you know? 73, there's no reason for all of us to die here. Take your pack and retreat. Find Gneisenau and Scharnhorst. They're probably the only sane ones left in this whole damned theater. Some final torpedoes from your rear tubes would be appreciated."
A heavy layer of static distorted the wolfpack's lead as she replied, scratching at Deutschland's ear as she watched drone ship after drone ship fall around her. "What are you saying, leader? We can still fight! They're practically at point blank range! If we just reverse slowly surely they wont-"
"73? Come in 73! What just happened?" the Ironblood cruiser demanded.
"We lost 410! She's sinking! W-what do we-"
"I just told you what to do, you idiot! Run for your damned life or stay here and die. Hell, you can even go try to save her if you wish. Depending on how badly she's hit she might have enough oxygen to last until you can get to her. Now get lost… you're no longer under my command. Brünhilde, or whatever your name is, I hope you weren't planning on enjoying this 'timeline' for very long. Try to take at least one of them down with you before you go? The Empress was speaking so highly of you before," she mocked with bile rising in the back of her throat. Dunkerque's hull was bearing down on her. She drew her shotguns calmly. At least she would see Spee again soon. "Or can you not even outdo a heavy cruiser?"
"What are you saying? I can't die; not here, not now! I just can't!" Brünhilde protested, her voice animated by some novel emotion that she'd not demonstrated either in the Empress' presence or during the battle proper. "I won't die."
"Heh, seems the Union has other plans for you," Deutschland snarled, indulging in a final moment of schadenfreude as the Massachusetts forged ahead with all power routed to shields and engines. Even the Ironblood cruiser had to admit that the display was spectacular, a cavalcade of sound and fury as she rammed into the Brünhilde at full tilt and unleashed a final volley to obliterate the ship's superstructure and main batteries. The enemy Templar closing distance to Deutschland appeared possessed by a modicum of prudence, however, and it became apparent that the enemy battleship and heavy cruiser would seek to flank and destroy her in a hail of crossfire. She took off towards her prow at full sprint. "I may not have the energy left to fight your hulls, but all I need is one lucky shot to send you to the depths. Come on then!"
"Algérie, break off and help the others!" Dunkerque called an audible as she stood aboard her second main battery for a better view of the approach. Deutschland had been easy enough to spot, the only figure on board the Ironblood cruiser. "She's already abandoned her hull."
"Copy," the mace-wielding woman replied simply, riddling the Deutschland with cannonfire and moving to provide cover for Marseillaise, who had taken her group of destroyers through the middle gap. "Don't you dare lose, Dunkerque. The sweet-toothed destroyers would be devastated."
"I will not," she affirmed, drawing her sword and assuming a restful but ready position with one foot in front of the other while her rigging rested calmly for her target to appear. Deutschland did not keep her waiting. She hailed the enemy kansen as she leapt onto her deck. "So, you seek an honorable death, Ironblood? Or are you here to surrender?"
"Shut up!" Deutschland snarled, letting her rigging do the talking as her boots pounded across the deck and she leveled her shotguns at the Templar. Dunkerque's serious expression didn't falter for an instant as she sidestepped the shells, ducked low to send the buckshot ricocheting skyward off her shields, and kicked forward. As she closed distance the Templar fired a full volley not from her rigging, but from her main batteries to consume her enemy in smoke and thunder. She was on the concussed Deutschland in seconds, the eight barrels of her rigging bringing down the Ironblood's personal shields as her sword flashed in the sunlight. The air sung and thin arcs of crimson blood painted Dunkerque's deck in a testament to her swift and deadly precision. When Deutschland finally recouped enough of her senses to take stock of her situation she found herself on one knee, her arms severed below the elbow, and the bloody tip of the Templar's sword pointed at her cubes.
"Last chance, Ironblood."
"DIE!" Deutschland screeched as she leapt forward with all her remaining strength. The final threat fell from her lips as Dunkerque struck without mercy, piercing her through the chest. Her rigging vanished and arms dropped to her sides, blood slowly welling in her mouth and dripping from her lips. She stared at the Templar defiantly, baring her teeth to the end. "If you don't kill her, end this madness, I'll-"
Any posthumous threat was overcome by a gurgling coughing fit as Deutschland's strength left her body, leaving her only with anger and revenge to keep her eyes open. "...kill. Spee…"
Dunkerque took half a second to close her eyes and pray for her opponent before wiping her sword on the hem of her skirt and rejoining the fray. "Knight Captain, the enemy flagship is dead."
Jean's response was prompt and curt. "Good. We have one captured here, out cold. Stay vigilant and clean up the Siren vessels. If the little sneaks below the waves attempt to leave, we will send the hounds after them."
Dunkerque allowed herself a moment of personal communication with her comrade as the tide of battle seemed to have turned inexorably in their favor. "By your orders, Jean. And… it's good to have you back."
"It is good to be back. We will speak later. I need to secure this prisoner. Knights Templar, the time has come to claim our first victory in this war!"
"410! Come in, 410! Oh where is she? We aren't even that deep, but the water is so murky here. Eep! Why so many explosions?!"
"73, if we don't get out of here we're going to be next! This is suicide!" U-81 insisted urgently, her ears bleeding and head ringing from repeated shellshock. She'd never been subjected to such a saturated barrage of depth charges in her life.
"You heard Deutschland. Get away from here and report to the Sisters! I can't leave her just yet," the wolfpack's commander replied as she continued to plunge into the pressure and darkness that usually heralded safety. Now it only felt like a tomb. "Please, 81. At least one of us needs to survive the day. If the enemy has this much firepower the Ironblood need to regroup! They'll pick us off in ones and twos otherwise."
"Alright, alright, fine. But you'd better follow along with 410 in tow! For the fatherland!"
"For the fatherland," 73 agreed, setting her engines to full and making as much noise as possible in an effort to mask 81's retreat on enemy sonar. To her comrade's credit, she was attempting to coast away from the battlefield, relying on stealth rather than speed to save her hide. "C'mon 410 give me something, anything!"
In a moment of grace, the gods of war granted the Ironblood a token of favor as her searchlights refracted off a thin trail of bubbles floating their way to the surface. Urgency filled the battle-weary kansen as she vaulted into her own torpedo tube, flooded the chamber, and shot herself out into the Mediterranean. Her rigging materialized shortly thereafter, and she throttled at full after her only clue to her fellow's whereabouts. Peering through the gloom she soon spotted the outline of 410's hull, listing on its side as it slowly sunk into the depths. "Hold on, 410!"
U-73 zipped towards the front of the u-boat, swimming into one of the fore torpedo tubes. There was still enough power aboard for her to interface with the ship, closing the bay so she could get inside without flooding the whole vessel. "I shouldn't have bothered!" She exclaimed as she waded through unfamiliar hallways, half full of brackish seawater and lit only by a faint red glow.
With no care for structural integrity or the fate of the battle on the surface, U-73 blasted her way through bulkheads and locked doors until she finally reached the bridge, finding U-410 floating unconscious at her station, a thin trail of bubbles escaping her lips. With a furious curse in German she partially conjured her rigging, took as deep a breath as she could from her respirator, slapped the mask over 410's face, and held her fellow kansen tightly to her breast. With all of her remaining strength she threw up her shields and shot her way out of the doomed vessel, taking hold of her rigging and initiating emergency surfacing protocols. Her lungs and ears ached from the pressure change as she hurtled to the surface, the dark depths slowly giving way to deep blue and then a final moment of refracted sunlight before they broke the surface. The combination of external stimuli, pure oxygen, and then fresh air finally brought 410 around. The kansen spluttered and coughed up seawater as she and 73 clung to the latter's rigging.
"I… ugh, head hurts. Everything hurts. I think I'm going to throw up. What happened?" 410 wondered as U-73 did her best to take in the world around them at a glance. The Brünhilde was a smoking, floating wreck. She couldn't see the Deutschland anywhere, and the telltale glimmer of wisdom cubes and shards atop the waves indicated the almost complete destruction of the Siren forces.
"It would appear that we lost, badly. At least 81 maybe made it out," 73 replied, a glimmer of hope still present in her voice. Across the water to the east one of the Templar destroyers pulled a turn tight enough to kick up an artificial wave before steaming towards them at top speed. "We must be very popular. She's doing at least forty knots. Can you fight, 81?"
The pink-haired submarine's response was less than reassuring as she gagged and emptied her stomach. 73 sighed as the approaching Templar leapt from her bow and skated the final hundred meters to their position, rapier and rigging drawn and ready. "We surrender," 81 groaned as the white-haired kansen looked down at them with a mixture of disgust and pity.
"I don't know about dishonorable, but killing you would certainly not be glorious. Very well, disarm and follow me. Jean, I have two of the wolfpack here, hulls MIA," le Malin reported. Her leader's reply was approving, maybe even upbeat, as cleanup operations centered around the hulking battleship began.
"Excellent, Malin! Escort them to me if you would? The dungeons are in the bowels of the ship, towards the stern, starboard side," Jean Bart explained as the rest of the destroyers zipped about retrieving wisdom cubes and sinking the final, listless drone ships. Malin couldn't help her surprise.
"Your what? You have a dungeon on that thing?" she exclaimed, poking at U-73 with her rapier and gesturing to the floating fortress. "Take your comrade and get a move on, Ironblood."
"I have a forge too if your blade's lost its edge. We need to talk, Malin," Jean urged her forward. "Do not tarry. It is good you found them instead of Mogador."
The 'poisonous blade' of the Templar had little issues discerning what Jean wanted to discuss. The Knight Captain had never been one for subterfuge. "By your command, Jean. I'll be there in a moment."
"Hey Tennessee, how'd you make out?" Cleveland wondered, sitting at one of her AA batteries as the late autumn sun still managed to warm her face. "I'll be ok from here ladies. I've got enough energy to ship myself over to the docks and I'm sure you have more important Templar business to attend to, yeah? How's the crude in the Orthodoxy?"
Dupleix made a note on her clipboard. "I would recommend you pair it with a hearty Burgundy. It was our pleasure, Mademoiselle Cleveland. Adieu."
Tennessee nodded curtly and the Union cruiser waved goodbye as Kersaint and Dupleix departed the Cleveland to assist their comrades in the aftermath of the battle of Toulon. Cleveland smiled brightly. "Massachusetts learned from the best!"
The battleship snorted as Ares popped out of her hat with an approving chirp, but she couldn't fully hide her smirk. "She came out alive, so I approve. What do you make of them?"
"Even if we actually lost Akagi in this scrap it was absolutely worth it. I still think we could take the Templar in a straight brawl if we were at full strength, but I've never seen anyone fight with such elegance. The flagship excepted, of course."
"It's an eyesore, but it packs one hell of a punch," Tennessee agreed, watching as the Jean Bart turned around with agonizing slowness and made for the dockyards. "So when do you want to tell them?"
Cleveland and Ares cocked their heads as Tennessee folded her arms across her chest and turned her gaze to the south. "Tell them what?"
"That they can celebrate for a handful of hours at most before we need to leave to rescue their greatest ancestral foe from the Ironblood in Algiers? Or did you forget why we came all this way?" she asked harshly.
"Didn't we come here to rescue them?" Cleveland replied as though the answer was obvious.
Tennessee put two fingers to her temple in frustration. "Yes, we did. But unless you think we did that to wear them like a hood ornament or add another ten women to Thorson's bed, the next step is staring us in the face. He won't be here for days, even if he left right after we did!"
"Oooooh, I see how it is. Hmm hmm hmmm," Cleveland giggled, finding that she was able to move, albeit cumbersomely, thanks to Dupleix's repairs. "That little priestess would look great on his arm, don't you think?"
"Shut the fuck up."
"Juu!" Ares added indignantly. Cleveland waved them off, dropping the subject.
"Alright alright, didn't mean to touch a sore spot. Just try to keep in mind they've been here since the war started. They've earned themselves a night of celebration at least, right?"
Tennessee silently radioed Kaga, informing her of the battle's conclusion and their location. Across the water she could see every ship in the Templar fleet raising a deep blue battle standard in triumph. "That's not for us to decide. Let's get ourselves repaired and ready to sortie. This fleet was a joke. I doubt the Ugly Sisters will be."